These stories first appeared in Hunt's Book of Weapons, an in-game collection of found documents curated by an unknown researcher. They are replicated here in their original format. This means that many of the stories are not presented chronologically, or in one grouping, and it is left to the reader to put together the puzzle pieces and determine to what extent they contain fact, fiction, or fable.

Prior to the launch of Hunt: Showdown 1896, this weapon was named the Winfield 1887 Terminus. Our Variant terminology was also simplified. We have updated the names where relevant, but you may still see the more period accurate names within the lore texts.

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Terminus

WINFIELD 1887 TERMINUS. (See also: WINFIELD, SHOTGUNS). Designed by notable gun designer John Moses Crown, for the Winfield Arm's company. Crown himself had about the viability of a repeating action for the shotgun, however it was specifically requested for brand recognizability—all the other firearms in the Winfield line were repeaters. Nevertheless, the 1887 Terminus proved extremely popular, and became a staple of the line ever since.

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Interviewee: William Carter
Topic: Local folklores
Single sheets. Typewritten transcription. 8 x 11 in.
3/5

Some said the cat was a cougar, driven to starvation. Others said a tiger, escaped from a circus, taking revenge for its years of torment. Incidentally, that's why I refuse shows with predators myself. Just one gets loose, your name is dragged through the muck.

For twelve days, Ethyl and Jana stalked the Monongahela forest trying to track the beast down. Wherever they went, they came across its prey. What was left was unrecognizable. Blood-matted fur and mud. Splayed flesh and bark. Molars, canines, and splinters of bone.

On the thirteenth day, they returned to Marlinton empty handed. First, an old friend greeted them. Jane, from the show, had arrived to help. From a few days prior, a telegram from Mr. Winfield himself expressing his impatience. But there was more shocking news yet: the son of the man killed had now gone missing. Red Winters, just six years old.

A posse was formed, half a dozen or so. When they reached the Sewell tree, Jane picked up a trail. She followed it deep into the hills where they came to a cave. A bedraggled cougar sat at the opening, gnawing on a bone. Strewn around were little Red's clothes.

The posse began shooting at the cougar, but their shots missed the mark. Jane grazed its haunch as it leapt at the rocks, fleeing. But it was Ethyl and Jana who killed it, two shots tight together, twin holes in the cougar's chest.

Winfield's sales went through the roof, and Mr. Winfield was delighted, offering them lifetime contracts to promote his firearms. The only remains they found of Red were his forearm, no one had the guts cut open the belly of the beast. Nevertheless, they put them to rest. His mother, having lost a husband and a son, would never be the same. But it seemed Marlinton was free of its beast.

Jane, Ethyl, and Jana rejoined the show, and we set on round the country. Things weren't right between the three of them. They suspected Jane had tried to upstage them—she was notorious for that—but the truth was something else.

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Interviewee: William Carter
Topic: Local folklores
Single sheets. Typewritten transcription. 8 x 11 in.
4/5

Eleven years later another body turned up in the Sewell Tree. The wounds the same as before. The face was mauled beyond recognition, but it was clear he was a very young man. Most disturbingly, the body was missing a forearm, the wound long healed over. The word went around that it was young Red, back from the dead, and dead again.

Word reached us. Ethyl and Jana immediately took leave from the show, to go to Marlinton. Unbeknownst to them, Jane left a day later. Mr. Winfield somehow caught wind of all this. Waiting for Ethyl and Jana in Marlinton was a journalist to write the story. With him, a pair of their newest model repeaters, the Winfield 1887 Terminus shotgun. The Widow Winters had withdrawn, he said, unavailable for interview.

Ethyl and Jana again set off on the hunt. As they roamed, they discussed the possibility of whether or not it was really Red, whether it would have been possible for him to live this long in the woods, if the cougar they killed was the real one.

The area around the Sewell tree was heavily trod. No chance of finding tracks. The body itself had been removed, buried unmarked a few plots down from Red Winters' own. In the hollow of the tree was a rusty pile of trinkets, gifts left for old man Sewell. At a loss, Jana sifted through it, and one item caught their eye. A bit of trash really: a rusty, small, iron statue of me, William Carter. A show souvenir.

What struck them as odd was that this was a newer type, only sold that year, 1887. Meanwhile, my show was down three of its biggest stars, and I had bills to pay. I made the hard choice to pawn some items, charitably donated by my friends who had left me in a lurch. Amongst Jane's things I found a half-burnt pile of letters, all written in the same scratchy hand. The cindered scraps were signed by one Nika Felis. But there was another letter, dated a couple weeks prior, simply stating "Red was here." Now, this may be anticlimactic, but these names meant nothing to me at the time, so I went on with my business.

Terminus Flechette

RN: A recent discovery revealed a continuation of the narrative of Ethyl and Jana on the hunt for the Monongahelaen wildcat. While Carter's Wild West Show had acclaim, and they were minor celebrities, their job security was clearly scant. Perhaps why associates ended up later hunting.

Terminus Shorty

WINFIELD 1887 SHORTY. (See also: WINFIELD 1887 TERMINUS, SHOTGUNS). When shortened, the Terminus becomes an incredibly powerful firearm to pack for a rainy day. It was favored for its efficient ratio between power, rate-of-fire and size.

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Interviewee: William Carter
Topic: Local folklores
Single sheets. Typewritten transcription. 8 x 11 in.
5/5

Ethyl and Jana went round Marlinton, asking if anyone had been to the Carter Wild West Show, or knew the statue. Not a soul had. Except for one. Jane had been waiting for them. What she had to tell couldn't be spoke out loud in town.

The three women walked deep into the Monongahela forest. At dusk they settled in at the base of one of those blue-hazed hills that seemed to roll on forever. It was a cool night; for warmth they lit a fire, and drew long draughts from Ethyl's flask.

Jane confessed that she'd kept the secret for over a decade. All those years ago, she'd stopped the Marlinton wildcat. Jane had followed the twins to town to take the glory. Mr. Winfield had long been her sponsor, and confidant, and she was jealous of the sisters stealing the limelight.

Well, Jane chanced upon a troubled kid in the woods, Nika Felis. She was wild, half feral, blood on her hands. Something wasn't right with the girl, but Jane knew of a healer near New Orleans, Dr. John, who could calm her troubled mind. A boy was with her, Red. In a sorry state. Jane wanted to take him to his mother, but both kids seemed equally horrified at that suggestion.

In the end, she worked with Mr. Winfield to stage the killing of a cougar, if he would take the boy. That had been the last she'd heard of Red, till he'd turned up grown at the show just a few weeks before.

The ground trembled. A monstrous slurry of earth and rock was tipping down the slope, logs caught up in its flow. Jana sprang away, but watched horrified as the landslide engulfed Ethyl, then Jane. The earth settled, the fire smothered, only moonlight.

Jana watched a lone figure lope down the hillside, her body adorned with rattling pale bones. She moved lithely, picking her way smoothly down the treacherous ground. Jana called out "Felis?"

The figure's head snapped up in recognition: wild braids concealed two dark glinting eyes. Jana cried out in pain, a flung knife had buried itself in her arm, her trusty LeMat went flying. Felis kept striding forward.

Jana took one look at the ground where her friends had gone under. Picking up the Winfield with her one good arm, she flung the barrel forward, spinning it on the lever. At the sound of cocking, Felis's eyes snapped up, alarmed. Ethyl raised the shotgun and fired.

Terminus Penny Shot Ammo

RN: Their association with Winfield is enlightening, to say the least. Was there a reason that he later ignored the correspondence with Huff—had he grown tired of such interventions? While Ethyl and Jana often made use of his firearms, they were after all famed for carrying their twin LeMats.

Terminus Dragon Breath

RN: The background of Felis—but can it really be trusted? Carter was a teller of tall tales, and whilst there might be some truth to the matter, I'm highly suspect about whether or not the details here are correct. What's more, it's a retelling of another story—as verifiable as ancient tales of dragons.

Terminus Slug

RN: The presence of Felis and Doctor John, who we know were important in the bayou, is the key thread here. It seems Jane herself had a key role in her life. If only we knew what she knew, we may begin to understand Doctor John's true motivations at the time.

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